


You're Welcome

by Kuya



Category: One Piece
Genre: Aftercare, Consensual, Cuddles, Light D/s, M/M, Really fluffy though, Sceneing, Subdrop, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, sub Zoro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:09:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4848830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuya/pseuds/Kuya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoro's behaving weirdly. Sanji figures out why and goes about making him feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated mature for D/s, not for actual sexual content.
> 
> DO NOT dom people without their express consent! Also, don't use this as a guide for D/s relationships. These boys have no idea what they're doing (since the author doesn't either).

They had gone ashore around mid-morning, Nami-san releasing everyone to do as they pleased before dinnertime had baited them back onto the Sunny. Dinner had been sea cow with the rest of their stored vegetables, seasoned with local herbs; it had been a masterpiece of cuisine, if he may say so himself. The crust had been perfectly crisp, the flavors of the meat and herbs mingling in a way that was pure goodness.

 

There was absolutely no excuse for Zoro to be picking it apart with his chopsticks, listlessly shoveling random bites into his mouth.

 

Sanji felt his eyebrow twitch. "Oi, marimo, got a problem with my cooking?"

 

Zoro ripped his gaze from where he'd been staring at the wall of the galley– something telling Sanji that that wasn't what he'd been seeing– to look him in the eye. He broke eye contact, though, not even two seconds later.

 

"No."

 

Sanji blinked. No witty comeback? No insult? And, though it had been short, he was pretty sure he hadn't imagined the somewhat dead expression in the other's eyes – eye. "Then stop killing the food and eat it already," he quipped, ignoring a tinge of worry. Not like the bastard would appreciate it anyway.

 

Nevertheless, he found himself watching Zoro a bit more closely than usual (not that he didn't tend to do so already too close for comfort) for the rest of dinner and even after everyone had gone out back onto land and into the village, where apparently a harvest festival was taking place tonight. Sanji had picked the short straw and had gotten stuck with ship watch. It didn't explain, though, why the marimo hadn't gone too. And it didn't explain why he was currently trying to train himself to death either.

 

"Hey, you alright?" He blurted out, cursing himself for it a second later because he had been kind of looking forward to a calm, peaceful evening, the chance of which had just plummeted. Zoro, though, just sort of tensed for a second before a miniature shudder went through him, his head dropping and… oh. It couldn't be, could it? Except... "You're alright, you're fine," he tried cautiously, and the other's whole body sort of sagged.

 

Oh. Well, that certainly was surprising.

 

While his last sentence could be taken as a simple statement, it could also hold a much deeper meaning to one who was privy to it, and apparently Zoro was. Who would have thought?

 

He reached for his cigarettes and lightener and let his suddenly jumbled thoughts be calmed by the familiar feeling of nicotine settling into his system.

 

He'd always had a hutch that Zoro preferred the company of men. Not that the other had particularly done something to convince him of the fact, though he supposed he also hadn't done anything to convince Sanji of the _opposite_ , but it had been more of a gut feeling, a sort of 'gay radar' resulting from his own preferences. What hadn't even crossed his mind, though, was that they could be even more similar, _compatible_ even, than that.

 

Zoro had resumed lifting those stupidly big barbells of his and Sanji observed him quietly. Now that he knew what this was about and what to look out for, he could read the signs, saw the restlessness in the other's movements, saw the way his shoulders hunched, how unfocused his gaze was, and he frowned. This big idiot.

 

"Oi, marimo, stop with the self-torture. Isn't gonna stop the drop. It's only going to make it worse, actually."

 

Zoro flipped him off but he stopped anyway. Sanji felt an unexpected rush of desire jolt through him and immediately felt guilty. This wasn't the time to be feeling excited over an obedient marimo. It was odd enough that it _could_ excite him.

 

"Don't know what you mean. I'm not dropping anything." Zoro had turned to face him fully, expression a quite exquisite mixture of confusion, anger, uncomfortableness and plain feeling lost. It was the last one that tugged at Sanji's heart a little.

 

He leaned a little further forward, away from where he'd taken to resting against the railing, puffing out a cloud of smoke. "Let me guess, you're feeling like your skin doesn't fit anymore, like you wanna jump out of it and there's absolutely nothing to catch you, ground you, right?"

 

Zoro stared at him, shock now mixed into the array of emotions coloring his face. Then his eye narrowed. "So what?"

 

Sanji sighed. "That's subdrop, dipshit." For a fraction of a moment, Zoro's face screwed up and, yeah, abusive language probably wasn't the best approach right now. He continued, much softer, "Look, it's perfectly normal. Nothing to be ashamed of and one hundred percent the fault of the person" he said the word with a little more sharpness than it would strictly require "you were with. Go back, beat the shit out of them, and demand they give you the aftercare you deserve and need."

 

Zoro, now horrified, and it was really rather interesting to see the usually stoic marimo stutter his way through even more emotions than _Sanji_ experienced in the span of a few minutes, stammered, "I– I wasn't–"

 

"Oh _please_ ," Sanji interrupted, and that took the other back to angry.

 

"I don't need anything except for you to leave me the fuck alone," he snarled.

 

Sanji felt his own temper rise and threaten to get the better of him at the tone but he killed it off. Now wasn't the time. Instead, he watched as Zoro picked the barbell back up and started lifting again. Maybe it wasn't so bad, after all. And it wasn't like he could force the marimo to go back, neither did he have any desire to. Zoro had just made it perfectly clear after all that he didn't want Sanji‘s help.

 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a loud splash and some pretty creative swearing. The marimo had dropped a couple of weights into the sea. He'd... dropped them. Into the sea. 

Okay, so maybe Zoro wouldn't be fine.

 

Before he knew it, he'd moved fully away from the railing and was standing next to the other man who was still swearing and looking back and forth between his barbell and the sea, one hand unconsciously grabbing for the nape of Zoro's neck.

 

Zoro went completely still. Sanji rubbed his thumb and forefinger along the tense muscles and the other sagged a little. He put more pressure on then, properly digging his fingers into a knot, and Zoro _moaned_. It was a small sound, cut off at the end, and it went straight to Sanji's dick.

 

He didn't waste any time contemplating as to why exactly the marimo had such an effect on him where he most definitively _shouldn't_ but instead quickly assessed his possibilities.

 

Option A, leave Zoro to deal by himself as he'd demanded Sanji do. The thought left a stale aftertaste.

 

Option B, literally drag the other back to the person that had done this to him. He felt bile rise in his throat.

 

Option C, take things into his own hands. Yeah, right, like that was gonna happen.

 

Zoro let loose another suppressed groan, shifting slightly.

 

C it was.

 

While he'd done the thinking, his fingers had continued to knead the nape of Zoro's neck, and the marimo looked halfway to purring by now, head tilted backwards and eye halfway shut. Sanji slid closer, settling his other hand on Zoro's chest, right above his heart. If he breathed in deeply, the other's hip would poke him in the stomach.

 

"What are you trying to pull, cook?" Zoro had turned his head to look at him, eye open and sharp again.

 

"Aftercare," he drawled.

 

Zoro stared at him blankly.

 

"Please tell me you at least know what that is."

 

More staring.

 

Sanji groaned. "What the hell were you doing up until now?"

 

Zoro coiled a little into himself and he heightened the pressure of his hand on the other's chest, his thumb rubbing calming, soothing circles into the fabric. "Sorry."

 

"For what?" Zoro's voice sounded distant, like he was beginning to drift, and he subtly arched his chest into Sanji's hand, probably thinking he wouldn't notice.

 

"For yelling at you when you're like this," he answered.

 

Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say. "When I'm like what?" Zoro snapped, leaning away from his touch, though not pulling out of reach completely, as Sanji couldn't help but notice. Seemed like the marimo really did need it. "When I'm weak? Pathetic?"

 

"You're not pathetic! And neither does this make you weak!" He snapped back, his cool quickly leaving him. He didn't have a lot of patience for Zoro on a good day and this was getting tiring fast. "I told you, it's normal. Hell, it'd be stranger if it _didn't_ happen. Let me guess, it's one of your first times submitting?"

 

Zoro froze again, if at his directness, tone, or the question itself Sanji didn't know but he was done tiptoeing around the subject in any case. Straightforward had always worked best with Zoro after all. The marimo didn't answer, though, and when he searched the other's face, he found it beautifully flushed.

 

"Your first time?" He asked softly. Slipping a finger under Zoro's chin and tipping it up and around, he forced the other to look him in the eye. Zoro's gaze dropped again immediately, though he didn't fight Sanji's hold on him, and Sanji had his answer.

 

"Answer me," he demanded nonetheless and after a moment's hesitation, Zoro nodded.

 

"Words, Zoro," Sanji murmured quietly, running his thumb along the other's jaw.

 

Zoro's breath hitched. "Y-yeah," he said, and Sanji would've missed it had he not been inches from the other's face. Zoro, he realized, was expecting him to laugh.

 

"Good," he hummed approvingly, and Zoro let out a shuddering breath.

 

"Cook, I–"

 

"Hush, you don't have to do anything. Leave everything to me," Sanji soothed, and the marimo really must be feeling like shit because he let himself be led into one of the guest rooms under deck without resistance. If he wanted Zoro to open himself up, it sure as hell wasn't going to happen out in the open.

 

He sat down on the edge of the bed, extending a hand to the other who was still standing in the middle of the room, looking a hairsbreadth away from bolting. "C'mere."

 

Zoro didn't but instead eyed his hand warily. "Why're you doing this?"

 

"Out of the immense goodness of my heart."

 

Zoro, the asshole, didn't look convinced one bit. "What's it to you, anyway?" He prodded stubbornly.

 

Sanji sighed. "Look, I do care about you, okay? Yeah, we fight a lot, but you're still  _nakama_ and I don't wanna see you truly hurt... unhappy." He quickly changed his word choice when Zoro's face darkened. Stupid marimo and his stupid pride. "So come 'ere and let me cuddle the shit out of you." He made grabby hands at Zoro who snorted but actually did sit down this time.

 

Sanji clicked his tongue. "What, I'm Luffy now? My arms won't reach that far. You're gonna have to come a little closer here." Zoro flat-out ignored him and Sanji smirked. They could do things that way, too.

 

"Come here, Zoro," he said again, tone gentle, yet steady and firm, clearly an order. And this time, Zoro obeyed immediately. Sanji quickly dropped the grin, lest he'd have the other thinking he was making fun of him. He observed Zoro sideways, realizing the man was watching him just as intensely, something in his expression telling Sanji that he had absolutely no idea what was going on. Which made two of them.

 

He reached out to stroke the back of his hand along Zoro's temple.

 

Zoro flinched initially, then looked like he was trying very hard not to lean into the touch and, no, that wouldn't do. "Take off your yukata, lie down on the bed, stomach down, hands flat on your sides." Zoro moved without the slightest bit of hesitation, just throwing a glance in his direction, and Sanji's stomach did a little flip-thing, heat punching into his loin.

 

Who knew that an obedient marimo would be this hot? But he pushed that thought to the back of his mind. This wasn't about him; it was about Zoro, meaning the marimo's needs came first.

 

He didn't know whether what he was feeling was disappointment or something else over the fact that apparently today was a day Zoro was wearing underwear.

 

"Just relax," he murmured and, after a quick assessment, settled himself on his knees next to Zoro, experimentally stroking a forefinger down the other's spine. "That ok?"

 

He liked to think he knew Zoro rather well, so this shouldn't be too hard, right?

 

Zoro nodded, stiff as a board. But now that touch was fine, Sanji would get to working on that. "Concentrate on my finger on your skin, nothing else," he mumbled before continuing to paint invisible lines along the marimo's spine, into the dip of his lower back, along the broad curve of his shoulder blades. The man really was ripped, and that not even for the sake of vanity.

 

Somewhere along the way, the tension had begun to bleed out of Zoro until he was making soft little noises that Sanji was pretty sure he wasn't aware of. That's when Sanji drew his finger back.

 

Zoro made a sound that was perilously close to a whine and he made to lift his face from where he'd buried it into the pillow. Sanji shushed him, stroking a strand of green hair out of his now-lax face before gently pushing it back into the pillow. "We're not done yet, marimo. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

 

Zoro grumbled contently and sagged back onto the bed. "Good boy. Now roll over for me."

 

To his credit, the man clearly tried, but in the end, it was with heavy help on Sanji's part that he got settled on his side, arms flopped out carelessly in front of him.

 

Sanji only hesitated for about a second before moving into position next to him, sliding closer until his chest was resting flush against Zoro's back.

 

The marimo sighed happily and Sanji slid an arm around his waist, overwhelmed by how _right_ this felt.

 

"You alright in there? You still with me?" He whispered into the other's ear, pressing a kiss to the soft skin behind his ear before he could stop himself.

 

"Yeeahh," Zoro slurred, clearly anything but with him right now, and Sanji felt a fond smile tug on his lips.

 

This had always been his favorite part, and with Zoro it was even better.

 

The marimo was unexpectedly cute like this and Sanji was equal parts surprised and touched that Zoro had slipped so far under. It meant that Zoro trusted him one helluva lot, which, of course, he'd known, somehow, but it was still nice to have it confirmed.

 

He looked at Zoro, at the way he was a puddle in Sanji's arms, face red and lax, completely out of it and so very trusting– he really was a natural– and warmth pooled in Sanji's gut.

 

He curled his arm tighter around Zoro's waist, laughing quietly. "Sure you are, buddy."

 

Zoro frowned, or at least he tried to. "'am," he protested weakly, and gosh, that had no business being as sweet as it was. Even completely out of it, the marimo felt the need to argue with him.

 

"Yeah, okay," Sanji appeased and Zoro relaxed back against him.

 

"That's it, exactly like that. Just relax. Isn't that better?" He soothed further and Zoro _whined_. He practically folded himself over the other man. "I've got you, you're alright."

 

The marimo hummed approvingly while Sanji continued with a litany of praise, and it was probably over an hour later that Zoro began to stir in earnest, signaling that he was coming back.

 

Now came the potentially awkward part. The part that had him explaining to perfectly sober Zoro as to why he was draped over him in a way he might as well be trying to crawl _inside_ the other and was, in fact, quite unwilling to let go.

 

Zoro stiffened; Sanji didn't let go. And _there_ was the awkward.

 

"Let go of me," Zoro finally said.

 

"Uh," he responded, thinking hard. "No," he added.

 

"No?" Zoro asked incredulously.

 

"No," Sanji confirmed.

 

"Cook–"

 

"The moment I let go, you'll run away, right?" He blurted out.

 

Zoro didn't deny it, and he tightened his grip even further, stubbornly clinging to the other. For all he tensed up, Zoro didn't just throw him off and into the next wall, which Sanji counted as a win.

 

"Look, I know this is somewhat awkward, okay a _lot_ awkward but–" he trailed off, not having thought this part through.

 

"But?"

 

"But... don't run away?"

 

Zoro snorted, and Sanji grinned sheepishly. Relief flooded him and he realized that, on some level, he'd expected the other to punch him in the face. Because that was how his life usually went.

 

He peeled himself off Zoro.

 

"We good?"

 

"We're good," Zoro affirmed.

 

The marimo made to climb off the bed and Sanji sat up, one hand reaching up to tug at Zoro's sleeve.

 

"What."

 

"I–" He swallowed, suddenly nervous. "I don't know, just, don't hold it in, I guess?" He stared at Zoro's sleeve. The sleeve came closer until a hand cupped his chin and tilted it upwards with surprising gentleness.

 

Zoro's gaze was calm, almost soft. "I won't," he said, and for one long moment Sanji thought the other was going to kiss him. But then the moment was over and Zoro was straightening back up.

 

He blinked. "Good." What the hell was he feeling disappointed for?

 

Zoro, already at the door, paused with his back to Sanji. "Thanks." The word was spoken quietly but there was so much _meaning_ behind it.

 

He got up, walked over to the other. "You're welcome," he said, equally quietly.

 

And then he leaned in, finishing the job Zoro had left undone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since a few people wanted to see more of this, here it is. :) Thanks go to Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot for letting me pester them with questions over the course of what I think are months. Sorry about that. Anyway, hope you enjoy and that, since I DID do my research this time, it at least resembles how a D/s scene could play out. Again, please don't use this as a guide.
> 
> There is mild sexual content in this chapter.

Sanji licked his lips, nervous but confident that it wasn't showing on the outside. They had moved to one of the guest rooms of the Sunny, the same one he'd helped the marimo through the drop in a few weeks back. He was currently standing in the middle of the room, desperately trying to get his brain to catch up with recent events, Zoro positioned in front of him, looking like he was trying the same. The silence stretched until Sanji realized that he would have to be the one to break it.

He leaned forward a little, taking Zoro's chin between his middle finger and thumb, tipping it up, searching the other's eye. It was vaguely cautious, sharp, though not as sharp as it'd been a few moments ago. Full of trust.

 

He nodded lightly and drew in one last precious drag of his cigarette before crushing it beneath the sole of his foot.

 

He'd need his full attention for this.

 

Zoro was already bare; it had been the very first order he'd issued as soon as he'd edged the bolt into place behind them. That taken care of, he slipped the hand still on the marimo around to take a hold of the hair at the back of the other's head, tightening his grip, not exactly pulling but more like guiding Zoro's head back, baring his neck.

 

Zoro relaxed into it immediately.

 

"On your knees, marimo," he ordered quietly, experimentally, voice dropping an octave.

 

As last time, the other took beautifully to this tone, obeying instantly and without reservations. And as last time, it made Sanji's blood shoot south. Only that this time, he wouldn't have to ignore it. This time, it was about the _both_ of them.

 

After _that_ incident, he'd spent hours alone in the dead of night thinking about what had happened, about who'd dared do this to the marimo, about how perfect Zoro had been, about if he'd get to do this again, surprising himself with how much he wanted to do just that. It had come as quite a punch in the gut to realize that he'd somehow, somewhere along the way managed to begun to harbor such desires towards the marimo.

 

It didn't mean that the other had stopped annoying the shit out of him on a daily basis but now when the other was being stupidly unreasonable, he wanted to use the way he knew would make Zoro respond instantly or reach out and _soothe_ when the other began to look a little restless and weary.

 

It had been one of those days when Zoro had been in an unusually bad mood, snarling and snapping at anyone in reach, practically burying himself in his training and actually hurling one of his weights at Sanji when he'd come over to bring the other his afternoon snack that he'd grabbed the marimo by the shoulders, fully intending to throw the bastard over board. It hadn't come to that, though, because that moment, Zoro's knees had given out on him and he'd dropped to his knees in front of a completely floored Sanji. To be fair, the marimo had looked about as shocked as he'd felt, if not more so. And not to forget damn embarrassed.

 

It had taken all of his self-control not to bury his fingers in Zoro's hair right then and there and _take_.

 

"I–I–" The marimo had stuttered, face flaring a bright crimson and making to get back up after a quick glance around to reassure himself that none of the others had witnessed what he clearly thought to be a betrayal of his own body. Sanji hadn't stopped him but had helped him to his feet before carefully gliding closer and placing a splayed hand between his shoulder blades. "It's fine," Sanji'd reassured quietly, as sincerely as he could. "But we can't do that again."

 

"Not _like_ that," he'd quickly corrected when Zoro'd recoiled as if he'd been whipped. Not allowing himself to become side-tracked by that particular train of thought, he'd explained, "This isn't something that just happens; we have to talk about it first."

 

The marimo had just stared at him blankly. "Talk?"

 

He'd resisted the urge to growl, settling for running a hand down his face. "Yes, _talk_ , shithead."

 

"About what?" Zoro's continuing confusion had made him itch once more to meet the person that had Dommed the marimo that day.

 

"Safewords, hard and soft limits, you know, the usual. The part where we're making sure that everything's safe, sane and consensual," he'd said slowly, waving a little with the hand not having taken to stroking along the other's back muscles.

 

Zoro, unconsciously hunching into Sanji's stroking, had looked like that kind of talk was about the last thing he felt like doing and by the end of it, not only the marimo but Sanji too had wished for the earth to just open up and swallow him whole.

 

Even with that out of the way, they'd had to wait until the whole crew was on a night out again. Zoro clearly thought of this as a weakness still, and while he'd have to do something about that soon, it was obvious that right now, the marimo didn't want the others to know and if that was how he wanted to do things, that's how they'd do them.

 

Now that that moment of privacy had finally arrived with the crew being out on shore for some kind of summer dance carnival, Zoro having gotten more insufferable by the day, he watched the marimo go down as if his tendons had been cut, his knees hitting the floor with a thud, and Sanji winced in sympathy despite specifically having chosen this rug-covered bit of the floor for the other to kneel on.

 

"That's it," he murmured. His hand still in Zoro's hair, he gave it an approving ruffle before stepping back, doing a quick scan of the room and finding what he was looking for almost immediately.

 

He'd had a lot of time to think about what he wanted to do to the marimo and when he'd outlined the final plan to Zoro before they'd started and he'd gotten a light blush coupled with a growled, "Whatever," he hadn't even tried to stop the stupidly wide grin from spreading across his face.

 

"You're going to stay in this position until I tell you otherwise. You won't look up, move around or speak unless you need to use your safeword. Are we clear?" He waited until Zoro had nodded, eyes down, and with a last squeeze to the back of the marimo's neck, he moved towards one of the two chairs in the far corner of the room, settling in for the wait, all the while resisting the urge to palm the front of his pants.

 

He didn't have to wait long.

 

Soon, Zoro started squirming, subtly shifting his weight from one knee to the other, and Sanji opened his mouth to reprimand the marimo when the other's head slowly tipped forward.

 

He snorted softly and resisted rolling his eyes. He probably shouldn't be surprised that a man that came to life most during a battle to the death got a bit of a masochistic streak.

 

"Need a pillow, marimo?" He still felt compelled to ask since he prided himself in being a gentleman. Even when dealing with moss balls.

 

As predicted, Zoro blinked up at him lazily before slowly, dazedly shaking his head.

 

"That's okay. Eyes on the floor now, Zoro."

 

The marimo scrambled to obey, the tips of his ears turning red, and Sanji grew a little hard. "There's a good boy," he purred, watching fascinatedly as Zoro shuddered whole-bodily, head dropping fully.

 

He ditched the chair and closed in on the other who didn't so much as twitch a muscle. He positioned himself so that he was standing behind Zoro in way that the marimo wouldn't be able to see him even if he stood mere inches from the other. Zoro wouldn't be able to see him but he'd be able to _feel_ him.

 

He settled his fingers lightly at the nape of Zoro's neck, not squeezing, just resting them against smooth, scorching skin, feeling the muscles give under his hold. The marimo sighed, slumping a little.

 

He began carding his fingers through green hair, keeping his touch light, teasing, softly scraping at the other's scull and biting his tongue, hard, to keep from making some comment about leafy colors and mossy textures.

 

Zoro made content little growling noises deep in his throat and Sanji, again, swallowed down some slight about cats. However fun, the goal wasn't to get a rise out of the marimo, not right now. The last thing he wanted was to pull the other back up when he hadn't even gone deep down yet.

 

The other was swaying dangerously on his knees by now, heavily leaning into Sanji, and he pressed his hand harder to Zoro's neck to give him something ground him, trying not to be caught up in what it did to him to see normally calculating, detached Zoro now so completely uncoordinated and unable to support himself.

 

"You all right there?" Zoro looked like he was somewhere else already and he knew that technically, hopefully, the marimo would use his safeword if needed but it wasn't like it hurt to check.

 

Zoro nodded, still grumbling happily and Sanji made a quick grab for the other's torso to keep him from toppling over at the movement. He chuckled throatily at the adorable that was the marimo. The hands that had previously been curled into tight fists were now hanging lax at his sides.

 

Sanji's hunch had been right. Zoro was so responsive he didn't even need to pull out the big guns. Just one last push would do the deed.

 

Taking two quick steps around the other, not removing his hold on the other's chest in the process, he crouched down in front of the marimo, bringing their foreheads together. He searched Zoro's eyes again and seeing the total submission in them, he– slowly– wrapped his free hand around the marimo's throat, not applying any real pressure, just the silent threat of it, and Zoro went limp all over.

 

Sanji caught him, a soft smile playing on his lips. Zoro was warm, flushed, his pupils blown and unable to focus, and he was making small, involuntary noises low in his throat, staring at Sanji as if he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

 

He maneuvered them both so that they were lying on the bed with Sanji propped up against the headboard and the marimo leaning back against him, very aware of how the other's naked backside was pressed to his... issue.

 

He wrapped his arms around the other man, heart surging at the satisfied little rumble Zoro gave. "You're doing so well," he praised, a little overwhelmed, and the marimo hummed from where he was covering Sanji in a careless sprawl of boneless limbs.

 

He enveloped one of Zoro's wrists, squeezing it softly while stroking down the man's abs with the other hand, making the marimo squirm slightly. He frowned. "Stay still," he demanded and Zoro froze immediately. "There you go–" The 'good boy' got stuck in his throat when he saw the reason the marimo had been fidgeting.

 

The reason was quite prominently glaring at him from between the other man's legs. Zoro was hard.

 

He slowly, tentatively slid his hand down to rest flat against the other's lower stomach, pressing down lightly, lust surging at the small, mangled moan he got in response. "Do you need my help with that?" He asked carefully.

 

Earlier, Zoro hadn't disagreed to sexual acts even though Sanji'd told him that they weren't _necessary_ but it still felt right to ask. It wasn't like they'd ever done anything like it before after all. Sure, on a ship you can only go so long without walking into each other jerk off but _doing_ the deed was so very different from watching.

 

His breath caught almost painfully in his throat when Zoro gave a small, single nod, nudging his nose into Sanji's armpit.

 

"Alright," he said, fingers trailing down the other's side, barely grazing the skin. "But I'm gonna need a verbal response this time, marimo."

 

"'S okay," Zoro slurred, sounding like he was fucking drunk.

 

Sanji chuckled and pecked him on the temple. "That's good to hear."

 

He let the hand still resting against the other's lower abdomen trail even lower until he was taking Zoro in hand, causing the other man to sigh heavily, gliding down Sanji's body a bit as he went completely lax. Sanji gave a few slow, experimental strokes, gauging the other's reaction before tightening his grip and in no time at all, Zoro was covered in a sheen of sweat, shuddering pleasantly as he came all over Sanji's hand.

 

"That was done _so_ well," he whispered into the marimo's ear, as if it was a secret, while wiping the other clean with a tissue, and Zoro whined softly, apparently beyond being verbal now. He sneaked a look at the marimo's blissed-out face and confirmed that the other was flying. He grinned softly. "Now relax," he coaxed, encouraging Zoro to lean his head back to rest against the dip of Sanji's collarbone.

 

His own need was pulsing just short of painfully since the marimo had been pushing all of his buttons without even fucking _trying_ but no matter how much he might be throbbing, he didn't have any intention of doing anything about it right now. It was much more rewarding to see to Zoro.

 

He bent forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of the marimo's mouth because it felt like a natural thing to do.

 

An indeterminable amount of time and gently murmured praise and encouragements later, Zoro started coming back. As last time, he tensed, what felt like every muscle in his body seizing up.

 

Sanji clicked his tongue. "Oi, oi, no need for that, marimo. Give your body a break, will you."

 

"It's my body. It doesn't concern you."

 

Oh, Zoro was definitively back.

 

"If we're gonna do this on a regular basis, it does," he argued.

 

The marimo scoffed, then turned his head lightly towards Sanji. "...We are?"

 

Sanji shrugged, going for casual, which was dumb because Zoro could feel the frantic beating of his heart since the other hadn't bothered to get off him yet. "Depends on you, moss brain," he settled on, definitively not holding his breath and mentally crossing his fingers.

 

Zoro was silent for an unnerving amount of time. "Yeah," he finally said a little _too_ casually, a sharp, steely eye boring right into Sanji's.

 

"Yeah, it depends on you or yeah, you want to?"

 

"What do you think, shit cook?" And gone was the intense tone. Zoro turned away as if to get up.

 

"Yes, you want to?" He asked hopefully and in lieu of an answer, Zoro grunted, unrefined, and scratched at his belly.

 

"Fucking cover yourself already, will you," Sanji grumbled, but only half-heartedly since joy was currently flooding him to the point that he felt he should burst from it.

 

"Nothing you haven't already seen," Zoro helpfully pointed out.

 

Or touched, for that matter, a fact Sanji _didn't_ point out. "I don't even know why I put up with you," he settled on instead, trying not to get distracted by the seductive form of Zoro's happy trail (green as well) and failing miserably, his head still swimming with the implications of the huge thing he'd just signed up for.

 

"You like it."

 

He hummed, forcing himself to honor what remained of Zoro's modesty, even if the man in question didn't seem to have any such concerns. "Why's a mystery to me, though."

 

"Because you've got some weird fetishes."

 

Sanji flicked, lightly tugging at a green strand. "I want my obedient marimo back."

 

Zoro grimaced and slid off him and onto the edge of the bed, and in one fell swoop, Sanji felt very cold. Enough that he almost reached out to pull the marimo back and on top of him. Almost. But they weren't like that. They were just Nakama in a mutually beneficial relationship.

 

Suddenly, Zoro slumped back on top of him, pretty much covering him from head to toe in hot, heavy muscle. "You're an idiot," Zoro told him gruffly from where his face was squished into the crook of Sanji's neck and, after a second of surprise, Sanji curled around the marimo quickly before the other had a chance to change his mind.

 

"Missed me already?" He whispered into the skin at Zoro's temple.

 

The marimo nipped at the skin spanning over his collarbone. "Cook?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

"Shut up."

 

Just this one, he wouldn't argue. He could do that again tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'd really like some feedback. Please tell me if I got it right and if I didn't, what I did wrong.
> 
> You can't even imagine how much I struggled to try and make the D/s authentic but not have Zoro be OOC. Those two are mutually exclusive, I swear.


End file.
